


Fatima's findings

by twatwaffle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, F/M, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Islam, M/M, Muslim Character, Other, Queer Themes, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:46:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twatwaffle/pseuds/twatwaffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fatima is on a cross-country bus ride from California to New York, when she meets Mahmoud when they stop in Detroit. That's his final stop, and he invites Fatima to his house for afternoon prayers and dinner. She meets Mahmood's roommate, and learns about how the Sunni and Shia roommate get along so well.</p>
<p>(in progress)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fatima's findings

Going this long without a shower, in a hot crowded Greyhound was not Fatima's style. She was glad that there was a 4 hour layover in Chicago, because the last time they stopped for a significant period of time was in Des Moines, IA. She was hot and sticky under her long sleeve teal shirt, her loose wide-leg jeans, and her matching head scarf. Drinking bottle after bottle of water was only doing so much to keep her from overheating and makes for more frequent bathroom trips. In the trip planner that a friend who writes for the Arab World News gave her, she knew that there was a local mosque that she could take a shower and do her prayers at without worrying about being harassed in the large city. 

She got off of the bus, taking her carry-on with her, and made her way to the mosque. Stepping out of the bus terminal, she looked up and marveled at the skyscrapers and was almost overwhelmed. She looked at the map that the imam had drawn for her to the mosque, and got started by turning left. It felt nice to blend in with most of the other people on the sidewalk. She was only 9 blocks away, and kept her pace brisk. Another Muslim sister said "Assalamu 'Alaykum," as she passed, and she returned the greeting, as expected, but besides that, she didn't encounter anything from anyone. 

She walked up the steps to the mosque, and a handsome man in a long, pressed white thobe and white kufi opened the door, greeting her, "Hello, and welcome sister." She kept her eyes down, thanking him, and followed the signs for the women's restroom. She took a single stall with a small shower and quickly cleaned herself, and prepared herself for prayers. She looked in the mirror, and got out her compact to cover her barely-visible facial hair shadow a little better, and touch up her mascara and kohl eyeliner, and put some more lip stain on, a deep burgundy that contrasted well with her matching teal shirt and hijab, and complimented her deep toffee skin tone. She glanced around and after seeing that nobody was headed toward the restroom, slid her slender hand down into her jeans, putting her small cock back into place, so it was even less likely to be noticed. 

Remaining pious while being transsexual was difficult for Fatima. She wasn't so worried about whether or not she could be Muslim; she knew God loved her no matter what, but she was afraid that most other Muslims wouldn't accept her. Though all of her documents reflected her correct name and gender, she was always afraid of being mistaken for a cross-dresser, though the years of androgen-blockers and estrogen have made her skin as soft as any other woman's and her hair just as silky. She compared herself with her sisters and mother often, and was fortunate to have such a slender figure, and her facial hair was barely visible compared to her mother's shadow. Her electrologist was very good, and hasn't left any scars - darker hair being more difficult to remove. Looking in the mirror once more and making sure her scarf was placed just right, repinning it in place, she took a deep breath and went out to the hallway, removed her shoes, and entered the prayer room. 

The call to prayer had started about a minute ago, and faithful Muslims were lining up to pray, and Fatima took her position with the other women without incident, and performed prayers as she had planned. Afterward, she said the obligatory greetings to the other women, keeping her voice soft and at a whisper, which wouldn't have red-flagged anything, since many believed women should keep their voices soft in the presence of men. 

Leaving to make it to the bus terminal in time for departure, she adjusted her scarf to loosen it, and went to the Mediterranean sandwich shop to get a quick bite to eat, grabbed a falafel sandwich and tabbouleh salad, and wolfed it down, not having ate since very early that morning. She got up and rushed back to the station with the same fast pace she had when she was on her way to the mosque. 

She felt much better because of her shower and dinner, and waited to board the bus with the rest of the passengers; some new, most from the previous trip. Sitting in her seat next to the window, she heard a soft male voice ask, "Assalamu 'Alaykum, sister, may I sit with you?" 

She looked up and saw a tall, thin South Asian man, clean shaven, wearing a green patterned loose tunic with jeans and a matching green and white crocheted kufi. His eyes were big and bright with question, and she moved her bag off of the seat and in front of her feet. "Wa 'Alaykum Salaam, you may sit here, brother," she replied in her soft voice. 

After he sat, she asked his name and what he was doing. Mahmoud was traveling home to Detroit, after a small tour of American mosques since he arrived in the country a month ago. He was from West Bengal and wanted to travel to America to study veterinary medicine. She shared that she was traveling to New York for medical reasons; an operation was available at half the cost in New York than anyone around Anaheim, even anyone in California, unless they were shady-seeming. 

They continued talking, discussing family, relationships, and religion, and started to really like each other. The five hour trip was coming to a close and Mahmoud asked Fatima to dinner and said that they could do night prayers afterward. Fatima was wondering whether she should tell him about being trans now, or wait till later.


End file.
